


The Boyfriend Blues

by Dark_Diamonds



Series: Good Neighbors GrimmIchi [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 06:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Diamonds/pseuds/Dark_Diamonds
Summary: Things are going well between Ichigo and Grimmjow, have been for a month now, still Ichigo is a little uneasy when he thinks of their relationship. Is it even a real relationship? Just a little fluff piece to follow "Like A Good Neighbor" with a tiny bit of angst.





	The Boyfriend Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Another fanfic I found on the old iPad, a sequel! Short and sweet

Ichigo adjusted the sleeve of his t-shirt nervously as he made his way to the end of the hall; to the door of his boyfriend's apartment. Or at least he thinks he is his boyfriend. He and Grimmjow had been seeing each other for a little over a month now, but there was never any title placed on their relationship or an official declaration to indicate if they were "serious."  
Ichigo paused before the door momentarily before rapping timidly. The fierce scratching of Charming on the other side was a familiar comfort to the nervous ginger. No matter how many times he saw the other man, he got the same school girl butterflies in his stomach every time.  
"It's open!" was the only reply from Grimmjow.

The older man was lying on his couch, looking exhausted.  
"You didn't just leave work did you?" Ichigo inquired.  
A nod and head hitting the armrest were his answer.  
"Not all of us can be let out by noon," he joked, the humor of his voice strained by fatigue.  
"If you'd rather not go out, I could just make you something to eat?"  
"Aren't you just a doting little wife?"  
Ichigo was disappointed, not only that they had to cancel plans, but also a little let down that Grimmjow hadn't said "boyfriend." Although he never assigned the red head a title of boyfriend, lover, or even friend with benefits, there were plenty of wife jokes. As much as he hoped they were meant to be taken affectionately, it was more likely the other was just mocking his caring nature. 

Ignoring the quip, Ichigo went about the kitchen, Charming already perched on the counter awaiting him. He scratched behind the cat's chipped ear, receiving a pleasant meow in response.  
While searching the cabinets, a light snore from the living room drew Ichigo's attention. He directed his view to the mess of pale blue hair on the couch; the beautiful face away from him. That hair was one of the first things that had drawn his attention to Grimmjow.  
He had first seen him when he moved in, just a glimpse of bright blue in the driver's seat of a black old school Mercedes. Next was the eyes, a fearsome cyan set glaring at him as he gave a police statement. They were deep and solid, drawing to mind a bright oil paint in place of the typical ocean blues. The two hadn't spoken until the next day when he was searching for Charming. He remembered being relieved that he wasn't the only tenant with an odd hair color, in fact he took selfish delight in Grimmjow having an even flashier color. Now he so loved that flashy hair and those astounding eyes.

Fiddling with the knobs on the stove, Ichigo decided to make lasagna, it was simple enough.  
While waiting for the pasta to boil, doubts began to circle the poor boy's head.  
The age gap between he and Grimmjow wasn't huge, but it was enough to question why a "functioning adult" would take interest in a college student. And even then, what kind of interest was there? Besides the sex there was little affection or personal interaction, just typical "Guy's night" behavior. Ichigo even questioned what he himself saw in the other man, but dismissed the query when Charming hopped up to lay in the indent of Grimmjow's chest. A hand tiredly reached around to lay across the cat's back, purely instinctual.  
That was what he saw in him, that affection. Though none of it was directed to him, those sweet gestures and sincerity appealed so strongly to the college student. No one else saw this side of the ruffian tenant, and Ichigo took pride in it being his own secret joy. So he stuck around, smiling fondly whenever he would catch one of these heart-melting scenes between the two. He decided it was enough to be treated like a friend if he got to be the only one relishing this secret side of the other man. At least, he hoped he was the only one.

While meat browned in a pan, Ichigo observed the apartment around him from the stove. He had been here several times, stayed over a night or two, but never really took it in. There were no photos in the main part of the apartment, and he didn't remember seeing any in the bedroom either. The furniture was simple black and gray, a basic living room set, bookshelf, and the small dining table. The shelves were filled with cult classics and series novels, but the bottom one held thick, unnamed leather bound volumes, photo albums from the look of them.

Layering the ingredients in the dish, Ichigo set a timer before throwing it into the oven. Grimmjow still slept peacefully on the couch, Charming huddled between his body and the corner seat. It took the red head a few minutes of browsing the bookshelf and convincing himself "this is completely casual, I'm not snooping" to finally pick up one of the albums on the bottom. It was a thick black binder, very basic, like the rest of the apartment.  
Flipping through, pictures of the beach, crowded party scenes, and vintage muscle cars filled the pages. The object of his affection was in very few of the pictures, sometimes he was by the cars, a wrench in hand to indicate "I fixed this" or he was in the reflection of a building with his camera. Grimmjow didn't really keep photo albums the way most people did, they were his memories and parts of his life he felt worth documenting, but he didn't try too hard to include himself in a snapshot.  
Settling into the armchair by the window, Ichigo continued to riffle through the book. Ticket stubs, concert passes, receipts, anything of interest had a place in the scrapbook.  
In some of the photos the man with blue hair looking at the camera seemed to be only about fifteen, in others he looked almost the same, early to mid twenties timeframe. The photo of his shoulder, red from a fresh tattoo brought a smile to Ichigo, he knew this story.  
Grimmjow had been twenty-three, two years ago, and was blackout drunk. He likes to claim that he never makes bad decisions while drunk, he just doesn't bother to think if he should do something. The declaration had made Ichigo smile, knowing that their whole "relationship" was based on one of Grimmjow's drunk incidents. It was the closest to reassurance he had been given so far, and he was willing to take it as that. Not to mention, Grimm still liked the tattoo, so apparently he hadn't made a bad choice. 

A yawn over by the couch drew Ichigo's eyes up from the nostalgic pages. His blue-haired obsession had begun to wake up and directed his drowsy gaze over to his younger counterpart.  
"Looking through that old thing?"  
"Yeah, why not? I was bored just sitting around." The ginger closed the album lightly.  
Grimmjow chuckled softly,  
"My bad."  
Placing the scrapbook back in its place, the college student went back to the kitchenette to check the timer, twelve minutes left.  
"Smells great," came the call from the living room. Ichigo just nodded.  
"Thanks for cooking, sorry again that I cancelled,"  
Tapping the counter, the young man reminded himself that they were just supposed to be going to a diner, nothing important.  
"What are friends for?" he laughed, trying to sound undeterred. 

It was quiet for a moment, then a laugh broke the silence. It was loud, but quick and almost nervous in its harshness.  
"Friends? We're friends now?" Grimmjow stretched, several audible pops sounded out as he became active.  
"Aren't we? With the way you act I thought we were," a subtle edge had seeped into his tone.  
"Is that so? Alright then, if that is how friends are with each other, how many 'friends' do you have?" Deep blue eyes were striking Ichigo and prying at him in a way that almost hurt, demanding a response. He had nothing to say, he was dumbfounded and discombobulated by the glare, a real deer in the headlights.  
"Ichigo!" Grimmjow snapped after a prolonged pause.  
"Answer me damnit, who else-"  
"Jeez you're stupid, no one. I'm not sleeping with anyone else, I'm just being bitter. Okay?"  
"Bitter about what? One cancelled date?"  
"Of course not. I'm just a bit ticked about whatever's going on with... Us. If there really is 'us,' what am I supposed to call this? You just have me really confused, it's not a big deal, but I want to know where we stand at this point."

"Our relationship? We're going out, have been for a while. Wasn't that kind of obvious?"  
Grimmjow sounded more matter-of-fact than annoyed.  
"Yes, I know that, but is this just a casual thing or are we..."  
Ichigo moved his hands about as if he would find the words in the air.  
"What? Serious? Boyfriends? Exclusive? I need some input here if you want an answer Carrot Top,"  
"Yeah, that. I'd just like to know upfront Boy Blue."  
The older man laughed under his breath,  
"I didn't think there was a problem, but if it means that much to you, sure. You can call me your boyfriend. I'm not seeing anyone else, and since you're so worried I'll assume you aren't either. So, we're boyfriends. God, that sounds so high school. Is that all?"  
Ichigo nodded quickly and checked the timer once again, feeling a little silly for the argument, ten minutes left.

It was quiet in the moments that followed as Grimmjow stretched his back and went over to the shelf; Ichigo trying to digest this new development. He had a legitimate boyfriend. Nothing was really different, but just hearing it be acknowledged made the relationship seem more... meaningful.

"So which albums did you see?" came from across the room.  
"Just the black one with the cars and scenery."  
A moment of scanning later and Grimmjow picked up all but the black album.  
"Come sit with me, I'll show you my favorite ones, there are some really funny stories."  
The books were plopped on one side of Grimmjow, Ichigo was directed to the other. When Grimmjow leaned against him he let himself relax into the man, enjoying the subtle show of affection. Throwing open a brown leather cover, there was a moment of page flipping before the older male stopped on a specific image: a powder-blue haired teen propped in a hospital bed with his arm in a sling.  
"I had completely shattered my wrist my first time riding a motorcycle. The doctor said I handled it well, but I think he was full of shit because I never stopped swearing from the moment they wheeled me in."

More page flipping, and finally he settled on a photo of a scene Ichigo had heard plenty about: his ninth birthday. Six kids sat on a bench, covered in mud and confetti, a beautiful woman with cascading blonde hair smiled as she lit birthday candles on a large sheet cake. It was sloppily frosted and the lettering was just barely legible, but from what Grimmjow told him, Ichigo knew she had put her heart into it. When he didn't say anything to explain the picture, Ichigo leaned further into his boyfriend, offering his silent support in the form of a head on his shoulder. Charming apparently had the same idea as he hopped straight into his lap. Not one to be outdone by a cat of all things, he hesitantly raked his fingers through soft blue tresses, and was surprised by the way the larger man seemed to just fall into him, wrapping an arm around his waist and letting his head fall against Ichigo's. Turning the page, there were three pictures, showing even more kids running, hitting a piñata, and watching a magic show. Ichigo scanned the pictures for what he thought may be his companion in his youth, but couldn't pinpoint it until the next page. Two pictures, one on each page, the first of his mother thrown over a little boy's shoulders as he blew out the candles on the sloppy cake. The second, the two wrapped together, smiling wide for the camera as a young Grimmjow holds a tiny white kitten, there was no mistaking those bright blue eyes.  
"Huh," was all he said.  
Grimmjow laughed, "what?" Ichigo kept looking at the photos, enjoying the closeness and warmth of their position as he wondered why he hadn't put it together when he first saw the picture of his mom.  
"You're blonde?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Stay posted for more of the stories I wrote literal years ago


End file.
